


Field Lessons

by KorrohShipper



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Steggy - Freeform, The Author Regrets Everything, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 18:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19910344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper
Summary: The four lessons Peggy Carter learned during the war, and the one she should have prepared herself for.





	Field Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> It's a general rule of thumb in the student publication of my school to prepare at least 3 extra articles on top of the actual assignment. 
> 
> I guess I carried this rule of redundancy because as I was clearing out my drive, there appeared to be at least a few more scrapped one-shots I've made for Steggy Week that didn't quite make the cut.
> 
> So, here's a messy 4+1 fic.

**I.**   
**WHAT IT MEANS TO HAVE FAITH**

It had been bad when Colonel Phillips greeted them the minute Howard had landed the plane on the strip of land near their base. 

Peggy could still remember her boss’ face the minute her feet found its bearings on solid ground. The scowl that ran deeper than and the disappointment that she couldn’t quite shake off her chest, but it was the piercing gaze of disbelief that managed to get to her. 

She knew that whatever punishment he had would have been bad. Enough, perhaps, to terminate her career with the S.S.R. and ship her back to Bletchley Park. The prospect of going back to England was awful, especially after knowing what kind of difference she could make, but whatever sentiment of regret didn’t come up.

Even the call on their agreed upon hour had passed to the point where only one inevitable conclusion could be drawn.

So, it was when she was summoned into the tent, when Phillips was passing along the words to be typed, when a glare was shot in her direction. 

“I can’t touch Stark. He’s rich and he’s the army’s number one weapons contractor.” His jaw tightened as he zeroes down on her. “You are neither one.”

She fixed her gaze on Phillips, unwilling to back down on what she’s done. “With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did, either.”

There was a hint of a scoff that left Phillips. “What makes you think I give a damn about your opinions? I took a chance with you, Agent Carter. And now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead.” 

She steeled herself for the brunt of anger that her boss could fling at her. But it never came.

Instead, a low and dangerously calm tone came. “Cause you had a crush.”

Whatever fight she had, it didn’t quite ring just right. She opened her mouth briefly, but nothing came out. She couldn’t dignify the accusation with an answer.

It didn’t matter if it was true or not, even with the threat of being shipped back to England to face the people she had left behind in her efforts to rediscover the Peggy she had lost, the sister Michael had believed in. 

She believed in him. And she stood by what she said when she admitted to him that he was meant for much more, for something bigger than being a lab rat. 

And if it meant having to be brought back to England for trying to make a difference, for believing in someone else the way Michael had trusted her and supported her, then it didn't matter, even if she was to see Fred Wells again or her mother's disapproving glares.

“It wasn’t that.” She thought of Steve and kept her calm and cool demeanor. “I had faith.”

Phillips was about to snap back at her when loud chattering outside broke. In strides, she marched outside and bit back the smug reply she probably had in mind when Steve lead hundreds, if not thousands of men back to the heart of the camp. 

But whatever drove her to take the high road seemingly disappeared as she walked beside Phillips to greet Steve. “ _See_?” she pressed, almost impishly. “I had faith.”

* * *

**II.  
WHAT JEALOUSY MEANS**

“And you shot him?”

Peggy spun around from the vanity and was greeted, immediately, by an incredulous look of disbelief courtesy of her flatmate, Beatrice, a code breaker who was reassigned to help ease the load of the S.S.R. with Hydra encampments and movements.

Beatrice gaped, her lips parted, forming an _o_ shape. She raised her brows, teetering on the base of her hairline. “Yes. Emptied a clip, in fact.” From the mirror’s reflection, her roommate rushed to her feet, and in a moment’s notice, she had been nudged sharply.

“You shot Captain America, the— _oh, how does the song go_?—the star-spangled man with a plan?” 

“Is it so hard to believe?” she asked dourly, removing the pin curlers that hung in between her hair. “And I shot _at_ him. Stop being so dramatic, Beatrice, it’s unbecoming.” 

Her roommate, a fellow Englishwoman who she’s known for her entire life, threw her head back and crooned in laughter. “I’m sorry, Peggy, truly, but I never imagined that this day would come.”

“And what, pray-tell, is this day in particular?”

An impish grin was shot in her direction. “The day Margaret Carter fell in love and is seething with jealousy.”

It was her turn for incredulous disbelief. Her eyes went wide for a brief moment before they narrowed into slits. “I am not jealous, and I am most certainly not in love. Not one bit.” She insisted indignantly and tried her best to ignore the sight of her cheeks reddening by the second in the reflection.

“Oh, but Peggy, you are!” Beatrice sing-songed, stepping back to sit at the foot of the bed.

“I most certainly am not!” she brushed off the suggestive look on her friend’s face. “I would wager that I know love much better than you. I was engaged, after all. Remember Fred?”

Peggy hummed in her seat, taking a moment to pull on the curler. The argument, in her opinion, was won, especially with Beatrice’s silence.

One last tug, and her hair was free of the curlers. Still, Beatrice gave no word, not a sound. “Oh, don’t mope around, it’s—“ Peggy turned in her seat, ready to lift her the spirits, when a blank face stared at her, a small cautious smile on her friend’s face.

Peggy blinked. Once, and then twice. 

“Good Lord, I hope I haven’t broke you.”

Beatrice shook her head. “No, Peggy, it’s just that, Fred Wells, you were never like this with him?”

She was took aback. “What?”

“Tell me, Peggy, should the situations be different and, in Captain Rogers’ place, is Fred, would you have emptied a round of bullets at him?”

Without a moment’s notice, Peggy found herself laughing. “Oh, don’t be preposterous. Fred may as well be a dour man, but he’s a decent chap. Certainly not one to go around.” She defended, weakly, with a shaky laugh.

Now off the bed, Beatrice surged forward and clasped both of her hands unto her shoulders. “No, no. You’re not getting the point, Peggy. For the past year, the room around you lights up when your American captain enters—and don’t you dare deny it!” the pointed glance and accusing finger shot at her direction made her feel exposed, all of a sudden, vulnerable and bare like her secrets were poured out in the open.

“Well,” she began lightly, trying for a smile, “Steve, he’s good company.”

“You never smiled at Fred the way you do at Steve.”

Her tongue felt like a sheet of lead in her mouth. “Captain Rogers and I are colleagues. Friends and nothing more.” She stated firmly.

“Friends won’t shoot each other for the reason of being snogged because of the office pool.”

Peggy’s brows rose. “Excuse me, what? _Pool_?”

Beatrice nodded enthusiastically. “The office’s betting pool. It’s been going around—we’ve been trading around rations, alcohol, a few tins of Quality Street, and dares—one that got you all riled up, apparently.”

“Pardon?”

An exasperated sigh left her friend. “Private Lorraine lost a bet and she was tasked with he daunting prospect of snogging your man in front of you. The girls wanted to get a rise put of you.”

Once again, her cheeks heated up. “And you condone this?” she sputtered.

“Can’t be helped—and stop changing the topic. It got a rise out of you, Peggy. You’re jealous and there’s a reason for that. Accept it.”

Instead of a concrete answer, her fingers wrapped itself around a discarded pin curler and hurled it over to Beatrice’s direction. 

To her dismay, the projectile missed its target completely. “Cheeky.” She hissed at a laughing Beatrice—but her thoughts did not escape her.

She was mighty jealous, and like it or not, there was an equally strong reason behind it.

* * *

**III.  
HOW FORGIVENESS WORKS**

Weeks after the incident with Steve and Private Lorraine, after she found out that the kiss was a ruse set up by the girls at the office, she still didn’t give him the time of the day.

As a result, she could still see him lurking around the office windows, staying just a tad bit longer during the briefing meetings with Colonel Phillips. Most of all, she could still feel his gaze lingering at her whenever they found themselves inside the same room.

It was also during this time when she’s learned his tells. She’s become so accustomed to his presence trailing behind her that Peggy found herself craning her neck every time the door to the office bullpen would open and she would be unsurprisingly disappointed when it wasn’t Steve Rogers who came through the entrance with a hopeful and apologetic look each time.

It was useless to think otherwise as well. Steve and the 107th Infantry were deployed to push back the Maginot line in France. They weren’t expected back for at least another month. There were also no communication at the moment, as a crucial spy had been placed between their midst and any form of surveillance and subsequent error could prove fatal.

Peggy wouldn’t lie. Even after finding out it was a ruse, she couldn’t help but feel the painful twang of betrayal.

There was still an image in her head, and it wasn’t made up like a paranoid innuendo. It was real, she saw it in broad daylight as he was drafted into a corner.

She hated how she could still picture Private Lorraine’s lipstick on his mouth and how it sent a bubbling feeling to her stomach and cause her lips to curl downward.

“Carter!”

Peggy lifted her gaze from the intelligence report she’s probably read for six times and spotted Colonel Phillips, just closing the door to his corner office at the base. It also caused her face to flush when she realized that it was half-passed six in the evening and no one else remained at the office.

“Sir,” she stood up diligently, straightening the ruffled lines of her uniform, going on as if she was locked in serious assessing of the report. “I was just finishing up.” Because she was, truly. She wasn’t spending time thinking of a man.

But she was met with a dry and unimpressed look. “Right.” The drawl of the word made it even more clear that her C.O. didn’t believe a word she said. “Anyways, finish whatever you’re doing faster. The war correspondent for the United States Army just arrived.”

Peggy couldn’t help her heart as it skipped a beat. “Sir?”

“Your boys,” a clear exasperated tone hid a much more vague and subtle amusement, “cleared out. They’ve managed to push through. The 102nd has a firm hold on the line and now we have to babysit America’s favorite son.”

She fought to keep a straight face. “That’s dreadful.” Peggy tried to mean it, but a much more giddy feeling broke through. “And the war correspondent?” she tried to switch the topic when Phillips gave her a wayward glance with narrowed eyes.

“The correspondent and the film crew brought back some reels. Senator Brandt asked us to review certain clips on what they could use for national viewing. So finish up, Carter, I don’t have all day.”

She gave him a curt nod and fixed her desk, carefully stacking up the files littered on the surface. “I’ll meet you at the viewing room, sir.” She whizzed her head up briefly for a second and resumed to fixing her work space when, in the flash of a second, Phillips replied gruffly.

“No.” She looked up, her brows furrowed together as her hands retreated quickly to her side. “Drop that for a second and walk with me, Carter.”

Hesitantly, she went towards her C.O. and began their walk towards the viewing room where the film crew were probably setting up the projector. 

There was a palpable tension that hing in the air each time Phillips would take a shaky breath or a sigh loudly. Each time had her shoulders tensing up. Finally, he said, “That was some stunt you pulled at Stark’s workshop.”

Peggy stopped a groan from escaping her mouth, the incident still fresh in her memories. Admittedly, it wasn’t one of her finest moments, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it just yet. “I was just testing the shield, sir. Taking precaution, is all.”

Instead of the usual dry look she expected, Phillips jabbed his left hand towards her. “Do you see what this is, Carter?” it was an opportune gleam of light that bounced off the metal band that helped her understand what he was referring to.

“A wedding ring, sir.”

In the corner of her eyes, she saw him nodding. “Correct, Carter.” He pulled back his hand. “Care to take a guess how many years I’ve been married?”

She bit back an uninterested response. “I’m afraid I’m not versed with—“

“Forty-three years.” Phillips cut her off as they turned to another hallway. “The missus and I don’t see eye to eye every damn time but we don’t end up shooting each other every time we have a misunderstanding—forgiveness and trust doesn’t work that way.”

Peggy’s eyes widened, any response died in her throat. Surely, her C.O. wasn’t giving her relationship advice. “Sir, I assure you that there is nothing going on between Captain Rogers and I.”

This time, a smirk appeared on her boss’ face. “Never did mention him, agent. Your words, not mine.”

Unperturbed, she continued. “Furthermore, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, there’s not much use.”

There was a low grumble from him. “You saw her kiss Rogers, right? It was a bet.”

A much more logical and practical side of her would have flushed and paled. “You knew?” instead, she turned to face him, her mouth parted into a gape as she stared in disbelief.

Phillips scowled. “Of course I knew. The whole damn office knows about the pool.”

She was taken aback. “Well, that’s hardly appropriate.”

“Anyways, Carter, don’t do anymore stupid stunts like that. You know, McGinnis almost had you banned here at the S.S.R., tried to convince Stark to file a restraining order.”

“And risk Howard Stark running loose without proper guidance?” her lips quirked upwards, a proud and smugness to her tone.

“Exactly.” Even Phillips cracked a smile. “So you listen to me good when I say that right now, you’re angry at Rogers because you have an image in your head.”

Her brows knotted together and her mouth hung open in protest. “Colonel Phillips, I must—“

He ignored her, as suspected. “People think they need time and space when they’ve got this nasty image stuck in their heads. In your case, you shot him.”

Her lips curled in distaste. “At his shield,” she grumbled under her breath.

“But that’s not how forgiveness and trust works, Carter. You need to know if you love him more—“

“I do not love, Captain Rogers!” she huffed out indignantly. “I simply had faith.” She added weakly.

“Then let me rephrase: you need to know if your faith in him is stronger than you hate that Private Lorraine kissed him.”

They stopped in front of a door and she’s realized they’ve looped around a hallway and finally reached the viewing room.

“Carter, I like you. You’re a good agent, and I don’t want to have to write up a report on your fraternizing with Rogers, but if you want to move forward, you have to understand that time and space isn’t going to do stick with that image stuck in your head.”

Phillips gripped the doorknob, and sure enough, the room is dark and the projector began showing the clips. 

“Now get. Help me review those film reels.”

Peggy quietly followed her boss inside, not at all minding the people who were watching alongside them, especially so when heads flickered towards her direction when her face appeared on the screen.

Because whatever image she had in her mind had faded when she saw Steve hunched over a map and kept her picture inside his compass.

* * *

**IV.  
CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION**

The men of the 107th Infantry cheered when they finally appeared, walking down the clearing that lead to the mouth of the camp. 

Peggy’s boots were caked in mud and her heels were sore from all the trudging and trekking, but the victory of having liberated over a thousand men from beyond the German line had been well worth the discomfort the mission afforded.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Steve piped up beside her, the vibranium shield hung by his back, making him resemble a very patriotic turtle. 

“You saved over a thousand men.” She remarked, her eyes still fixed on the path ahead, her skin sticky with sweat and dirt, the thought of a long, hot bath drawing a smile on her face. 

“Well, I did tell Phillips that we could do it,” there was a hint of smugness to his voice and she laughed, unable to help herself as he beamed at the people behind him. 

In the distance, when the rest of the soldiers came rushing to their aid, welcoming them into camp, Dugan thrust his fist into the air. “Wahoo!” he yipped, the Commandos joining in and Steve shook his head in response, face buried in his hand but a smile rested in his lips.

Peggy inhaled sharply. “Timothy, that wanker.” She grumbled under her breath but her features remained relaxed and cool. Barnes, however, laughed. 

“Well, Peggy—“

She shot Barnes a pointed look. “That’s Agent to you, soldier.”

But Barnes was unfazed, still grinning widely. “Peggy, you know, a few miles north from camp, there’s a small village and a well-stocked bar. Ain’t the Stork Club but it’d do.” Steve threw an arm over his friend’s shoulder and rumpled Barnes’ hair, whose eyes remained fixed on her.

She mocked shock and placed a hand over her chest. “Sergeant Barnes, do you expect me to settle? Especially with my dance partner, I think not.” there was a brief moment of silence and Steve looked like he wanted to break out laughing, amused at his friend’s rejection. 

Boldly, Barnes took a step forward and pulled her aside, Steve just a few meters behind them as the soldiers continued to march on. “Settle on the dance hall? Well, we gotta make do, but partner? Hell, no, Peggy.”

She smirked at him and glanced at Steve, who remained silent throughout the entire ordeal. “Well, I wasn’t lying that night in London—I’m waiting for the right partner, and while a fine dancer you must be, you’re not my right partner and I am certainly not one to settle.”

Barnes balked and switched glances between her and Steve. He grinned smugly and looked at the both of them as if he had caught them red handed. “Me? Ah, I’m flattered, Miss Carter—“

“Agent Carter.” She interjected, their banter still light as Barnes teased her and Steve so, even as the latter sped up and left them in his trail to meet up with Colonel Phillips, whose gruff and unimpressed look with a hint of pride that made her day. 

The war’s been terrible, but if fighting the good battle meant meeting the people she considered her brothers at arms, her family, it’s well worth it.

She was brought out of her thoughts when Barnes leaned to her side conspiratorially when Steve had been ushered inside Phillips’ office. “But I figured I’d ask you in Stevie’s stead here ‘cause he’d wait too long to ask to walk you home, let alone dance to Harry James with you.” The confident bravado that was usually ingrained in his voice was gone, a much more serious tone took its place. “Peg—“ Barnes glanced at her, waiting for her to correct him, but she met his gaze mutely, “—he wears his damn heart on his sleeve and Steve’s real sweet on you. Just don’t go breaking his heart, yeah?”

The gravity of his words didn’t faze her, but it did quicken the pace of her heart. “Never.” A surprising feeling of protectiveness came over her, the thought of anyone hurting Steve sent her fingers balled into a fist.

Her answer seemed to satisfy Barnes, who clasped her shoulder approvingly, the teasing bravado once again on his cocky face. “It’s settled. Dum Dum and I’d cover for you both. Go dance, you kids—you liberated over a thousand men, you guys deserve to celebrate.” He baited and she scoffed at him.

“I’ll celebrate once the war is over, Sergeant Barnes, and I’m sure Captain Rogers would give you the same sentiments.”

Beside her, he laughed. “Captain Rogers?” he wiggled his brows suggestively. “You know that you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” she replied smoothly. “I’m maintaining professionalism.”

Barnes walked ahead and turned to face her. “Well, screw that. Professionalism’s fine and all, but we’re at war, Peg—“

“Agent Carter—“ she interjected, but he had none of it. The teasing gone, a hopeful look faced her instead. 

“We’re not promised tomorrow. You and Steve need to understand that instead of sitting on both of your asses.”

His words dawned on her, and she glanced around. As successful the rescue mission was, there were casualties, men who they couldn’t save in time. Barnes was right, in war, no one is promised tomorrow.

“As much as I want the two of you to figure things out on your own, sometimes a bit of helping hand ain’t half bad.” Then, a wicked grin appeared on his face. “So, it’s either you take him dancing tonight, or I’m telling Stark—“ he pointed a knowing finger at her, “—and you know he’ll never let this go.”

As much as Peggy wanted to say she was unaffected, the prospect of Howard’s unending suggestive glances between her and Steve was infuriating already, his knowing how she felt would only add fuel to the fire. “You wouldn’t,” she said warningly, an edge to her voice clearly sharp as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh, but I would!” 

A slow tune played in her mind, and a rush of warmth coursed through her as the thought of dancing with Steve flashed in her mind. “Alright,” the look on Barnes’ face was similar to a puppy given a bone. “But after the next mission.”

Unfazed, James surged his hand forward. “You drive a hard bargain, Carter, but it’s better than nothing. Let’s shake on it—you and Steve’ll go dancing after the retrieval mission next Friday.”

Willingly, she took his hand into her own and shook upon the deal. “We capture Zola, and we’ll celebrate. Besides, you’re right. It’s about time, if I may say so myself, that we celebrate.”

Barnes grinned widely. “That’s the spirit, Peg!”

“Oh, don’t get so carried away, soldier. It’s still Agent Carter!”

* * *

**+I  
WHAT SHE SHOULD HAVE LEARNED**

The sound of boots marching around the area reached the control room, but she didn’t bother getting up from her chair.

Her thumb still fiddled with the button, trying to catch a signal. But when the radio turned back on, all she heard was static.

Peggy’s heart clenched painfully and her tears fell over to the surface of the radio controls when her eyes caught a looming shadow behind her. 

“Carter.” The gruff voice of her commanding officer sounded. It held a tinge of sadness and pity and she hated how she had to hear it. 

“No.” She croaked, the loss in her voice drawing the word out.

But she didn’t turn around to greet him. Her fingers remained on the controls, not a single move was made to at least make her look more presentable in front of her boss. His boots continued to creek against the metal sheets of the room until she felt him behind her. 

“Carter, that isn’t Rogers. He’s gone.” The words felt odd to her, but the weight of it fell heavy on her, almost as heavy as the hand that now rested on her shoulder.

Her thumb once again pressed on the receiver button. But the radio didn’t reveal a voice, only endless static that twisted her insides even more. “I can’t let him go.”

Phillips pivoted around her so that he stood by her side. His hand gently hovered above hers and softly pried her fingers away from the receiver button. When she glanced up at him, Peggy swore that tears glistened in his eyes when he held his head low. He met her gaze and gave a shaky sigh, one that sounded like he was ready to collapse and give up. 

“Let go and hold on to me, Carter.” The words had hit her like a bullet, and when he raised his hand along with hers, she grasped his dress uniform and clenched it tight in her fingers. 

“Carter, I won’t lie,” Phillips began. “It’s going to be hard and you’re going to feel like giving up every time you’re kicked down to the ground. But you have to remember to get right the hell back up—you have to keep fighting.”

Face still buried in his embrace, Peggy shook her head. “Keep fighting. I don’t know how.”

“You’ll learn. You always do,” Phillips said simply, as if it was expected of her and she paused.

She’ll learn.

The whole war, she had been learning. Her entire life had been filled with field lessons, ranging on how to be a proper girl from her mother to how to take a stand and make a difference from her brother.

Peggy’s lived her life learning the lessons life kept throwing at her, and when she first met Steve Rogers, she thought he was no different.

In her mind, he was a lesson she ought to learn from as much as she was tasked to teach him how to become a good soldier that Phillips had wanted—and when he had saved over a thousand men from the Hydra encampment with a cocky grin and a broken radio, she thought that she’s learned how to be a good teacher.

When she accepted the reason behind her jealousy, she learned she was in love.

And then with Barnes, who taught her that being alive in the present is more than enough a reason to celebrate.

But with all the lesson she’s learned, of all the lesson’s she’s taught, in the two hours that passed by after Steve crashed the plane into the arctic, moving on and fighting the good fight after his death, it seems to be the hardest.

Of all lessons she’s taught, Peggy thought to herself, she should have learned what it was like to live in a world without Steve Rogers.

With the pang of pain that kept twisting in her heart, it was decided that the lessons she’s learned in all of two hours after his death are the hardest.


End file.
